


The Year's Turning

by glim



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Gift Fic, Holidays, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-07
Updated: 2012-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-29 02:29:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen and Morgana mark the turning of the year at the winter solstice. (Series 1 canon era.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Year's Turning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fayrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayrose/gifts).



> Written for the [fuckyeahmerlinfemslash](http://fuckyeahmerlinfemslash.tumblr.com/) 2012 New Year's exchange.

_i._

 

Though she didn’t need to, Gwen woke before the sun rose. Even in her half-asleep state, she knew she had no reason to get up and dress, and the thought sent her nestling down into the heavy blankets. A few minutes passed before she remembered fully why she could stay abed a while longer — today was a feast day, a reprieve from work, and a day she wouldn’t have to spend tending to her lady’s needs.

Which didn’t mean she would be spending most of the day without Morgana. Gwen smiled at that thought and gave herself another minute in bed before shifting to sit up. Later, Morgana would call for the fire in her room to be built up before she bathed and dressed, yet to Gwen, even the maidservant’s rooms attached to Morgana’s felt luxuriously warm. She couldn’t leave her little house to stay here every night, not while her Dad still lived there and while they had each other to look after, but staying in the castle after a long night of festival preparations was nice.

Staying close to Morgana was nice, too, especially mornings like this, when Gwen wasn’t expected to be awake early and she could sit here, on her soft, narrow bed, and listen to the castle come alive. The kitchen staff would already be awake and working, and Merlin was probably setting out to do a round of deliveries for Gaius.

Only when she heard stirring from the next room did Gwen throw the covers off her lap and start to dress. As she pulled up her hair, she noticed a glint of gold in the fragile morning light. On the sill of the tiny window in her room, was a key. The finest, smallest, most delicate Gwen had ever seen, cast there as if lost or forgotten.

But it hadn’t been, Gwen knew, and slipped the little key into the pocket of her shift.

Gwen found Morgana standing in front of one of the windows in her own bedchamber, the casement open to let in the crisp morning air. She’d wrapped herself in an old fur cloak, one that had been Arthur’s before he’d surpassed Morgana in height. It was still heavy and warm, though, and Gwen eased in quick and close to Morgana when she held out a corner of it to Gwen.

“You’re up early,” Gwen murmured against the curve of Morgana’s neck and kissed her when Morgana hugged her closer.

“I was trying to make sure breakfast was sent up and ready when you woke.” Morgana rested her head against Gwen’s and gazed out of the window. Frost rimmed the edge of the casement just as an icy chill did the thin breeze that came through the window. “It’s winter at last,” she said.

Gwen nodded. Really, they ought to shut the window, but the faint sunlight and promise of a clear, cold day was welcome before the longest night. She kissed Morgana again, relishing the warmth of their bodies pressed close beneath the fur cloak.

 

 _ii._

 

“No.” Morgana pushed Gwen’s hand out of the way when Gwen reached into the wardrobe. “I’ll need your help dressing, but this part I can do on my own.”

“You’re taking this whole holiday very seriously, aren’t you?” Gwen tried to select a gown for Morgana, then, admonished once more by Morgana, she sat down on the edge of bed.

“Why, yes. Yes, I am. Now,” Morgana rummaged through her gowns, turned back to Gwen, and smiled. “What would you like me to wear?”

“Pardon?”

“I should like… I should like to look beautiful for you today.” Morgana turned back to the wardrobe, a faint flush of pink spreading over her cheeks. “I should like that very much, Gwen, for you to be the one to find me beautiful tonight.”

When she turned back, the pink flush had spread over her collarbones and the rise of her breasts. Her eyes met Gwen’s for a second before she grew bashful, then suddenly brave, and let her gaze drop to Gwen’s mouth. Silent and tense, the moment stretched between the two of them, and Gwen couldn’t help but be reminded of how Morgana’s body had curved into hers that morning, how her breasts had brushed against Gwen’s and how her kisses had wandered from Gwen’s lips to her neck to her shoulders as she shrugged the fur to the floor.

“I’m sure you’ll look beautiful in whatever you choose. You look beautiful now,” Gwen said softly. For the second time that day, all she wanted was to pull Morgana back to her bed and to watch the blush of arousal spread all over her pale skin, to feel the same warmth suffuse her own body. “But wear the new dark green one, and I’ll trim it for you with your new ribbon.”

Morgana’s breath caught, quiet and low in her throat, as if she could tell what Gwen was thinking, and she smiled her assent. After she dressed, after Gwen had trimmed her gown with the fine, silk ribbon she’d given Morgana as a solstice gift, Morgana wound the last length of ribbon around her hand and nudged Gwen to sit at her dressing table.

“Now everyone will know… well, they’ll know I care for you.” Morgana kissed the top of Gwen’s head and began to fix her hair. “It’ll look like you’re wearing my gift, but you can tell them that I’m wearing yours.”

“I wouldn’t know who to tell.” Gwen leaned into the touch of Morgana’s fingers stroking the nap of her neck and sighed, content. “Not that it matters, as I probably wouldn’t even tell anyone.”

“You could tell everyone. Or no one. Just as you choose, darling,” she murmured and her voice grew quiet with the endearment.

Gwen held onto these memories, too, for the rest of the day: the touch of Morgana’s fingers on her neck, the softness of her voice, and the glimpse of her hair in the mirror, threaded through with the same red ribbon as Morgana’s gown.

 

 _iii._

 

“Shall I stay?” Gwen asked.

She’d spent the first part of the solstice celebrations with the other castle servants, sharing a meal and games with them, and had then gone to spend time with the other families in her father’s guild, just as she’d done every year before. This year, though, a flutter of anticipation would catch Gwen by surprise every so often, and she’d remember the key and the ribbon, the scent of Morgana’s perfume at her neck and the touch of Morgana’s fingers on her skin.

“Please. If you wish,” Morgana added, “but, yes, please do stay.”

Gwen smiled and slid her arms around Morgana’s waist. Her mouth found Morgana’s and she kissed her, just gently at first, touching her lips to Morgana’s, and pressing them to the corner of her mouth to feel Morgana smile.

When Morgana kissed her back, the taste of wine and honey bloomed in Gwen’s mouth. Behind them, the fire had died and only a few candles gave the room a mellow, gold light. Morgana kept kissing Gwen, licking her tongue between Gwen’s lips and chasing the breath from her lungs.

“You looked so lovely tonight in the banquet hall, laughing, and then dancing,” Morgana said. Her hands moved from Gwen’s hips to her back, drawing her close. “And I longed to be with you, so I could spend the whole evening with you, instead of at the high table.”

“The food’s much better up there. And the wine.” Gwen laughed against Morgana’s lips to taste that wine on them once more.

She laughed again as she undressed Morgana, sliding the gown and shift from her limbs, continually interrupted by Morgana’s attempts to kiss her or tug off Gwen’s dress. The headiness of the wine and the flickering candlelight blurred the world into a rush of happiness, of desire and the desperate need to feel Morgana’s hands and mouth over her body at last.

This was what she’d waited all day for; all year, even, until the seasons had changed from spring to autumn to winter, and Morgana had been ready to show Gwen what was in her heart and mind. They’d both been impatient, been scared and uncertain at times, but Gwen knew — and had always known — that she could never love anyone as she loved Morgana.

“There’s a gift for you,” Morgana said when she’d curled herself around Gwen, sleepy and satisfied.

“Hmm?” Gwen had been busy stroking her fingers down Morgana’s side, finding the curve of her breast and stomach and hip, and glanced at the table by the bed when Morgana’s foot nudged her ankle. “Oh, I remember when you bought that.”

“At the last summer market, after looking at it each week. Yes. Do you want to open it now?”

Gwen picked up the tiny box; she fingered the edge and traced the delicate pattern carved into its lid, dark, polished wood inlaid with gold. She laid it back down on the table, freed herself from Morgana’s embrace to extinguish all but the candle by the bed, and took the tiny key from its pocket. Once she was back in bed, Gwen unwound the red ribbon from her hair, slid the key onto it, and placed both down by the box.

“Tomorrow,” she replied.


End file.
